


Daddy Issues

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 10:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17702975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Spike and Wes have an argument and make up.





	Daddy Issues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [verucasalt123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/gifts).



Spike sidled up behind Wesley and made sure he felt the doubled length of his belt against his arm. Wes leaned back into Spike’s groping hands. He purred against Wesley’s ear, “Who’s been a bad boy for Daddy?”

Wesley stiffened. Spike barely had time to sink back and say, “What?” before he was pushed away.

Wesley’s face was cold and angry. “How the HELL does anyone find that remotely attractive?”

Spike looked down at the looped belt in his hand somewhat guiltily. “I just thought we’d… you know…”

“Yes, I’m well aware what you THOUGHT.” Wes looked down at Spike coldly, like he was something dirty, and stalked off.

That was just a little too much. Spike went from apologetic to pissed. Besides the fact that Wes was leaving him alone in WESLEY’S apartment. It seemed unhospitable, at the least. “Oi!” Spike raced after him, catching him on the landing. “The fuck, Wes?”

Wes continued down the stairs without looking back. “Go home. When I’m ready to speak to you again, I’ll call.”

Spike caught up easily with Wes and jerked him back by the shoulder. Wes glared it him. “You don’t get to just blow me off and say you’ll call,” Spike said.

“And you don’t get to manhandle me,” Wesley said.

Spike rolled his eyes. “That was hardly manhandling. Untwist your knickers and let’s head back for a –“

The stinging slap startled Spike into silence, and stillness, as a punch would not have. He gaped in shock at Wesley’s retreating form, the street door swinging closed.

“Well, that certainly didn’t go as planned,” Spike said.

***

Angel scowled across the meeting table. Spike had flicked a paper football deftly into Wesley’s face. Wesley had made scathing remarks about vampire adolescents. They both avoided looking at each other and interrupted each other loudly.

There was no getting any work done like this. “What is going on?” Angel demanded. “And don’t say ‘nothing’ because we don’t have time to go through that song and dance.”

Spike rolled his eyes ceiling-ward, the picture of offended innocence.

“Perhaps,” Wesley said, “vampires who are not on the payroll should not attend meetings.”

Spike coughed. “Daddy issues.”

“Sire issues,” Wesley countered.

Their gazes locked.

Angel felt a headache starting. “Okay, whatever it is, it’s clear we have to separate you two, and Wes is right, Spike, you’re not on the payroll. Get out.”

“Oi! If one of us is leaving –“

“Wes has a report to make. Do you?”

Angel stared down Spike until the other looked away. Spike shrugged. “Whatever. Boring meeting anyway.” He picked up his brief case full of beer and swaggered out the door. Transparent as ever. Angel straightened his agenda pages, feeling relieved at having got that out of the way. “Moving on, then?” He looked up to see Wesley sagging a bit in his chair, looking out the door after Spike, his lower lip caught in his teeth. Angel shifted his gaze quickly to someone else. “Gunn? Why don’t you go next?”

***

Wesley sat a long time on his motorbike after pulling up to Spike’s apartment building. He didn’t like the place, and he didn’t like apologizing, but he knew, when he saw the raw hurt on Spike’s face when Angel had summarily dismissed him, he knew there was no clinging to his pride. It was time.

Quickly he secured his bike helmet and pulled the six-pack of imported beer out of the storage compartment. He was hoping this worked as the male equivalent of a bouquet of roses.

Wes knocked on the apartment door, feeling silly standing in the basement corridor that smelled of mildew and boiled cabbage.

The door opened just long enough for him to see Spike, and then slammed shut again.

“I knew I should have gone with whisky.” Wesley sighed and knocked again. “I’ve come to apologize.”

“Bugger off.”

“I’ve brought beer.” Silence. “Beer and fresh, willingly-donated human blood.”

A pause. The door opened a crack. Spike looked up and down. “Where is it?”

“Where I usually keep it.” Wesley shouldered his way into the door before Spike could slam it again.

Spike crossed his arms and scowled. Oh the intimidating scowl of William the Bloody. It must have been the last thing many a man or monster saw, but Wesley just found it slightly adorable.

He held the six-pack out. “I’m sorry. Can we talk about this like adults?”

“Obviously not, or we would have. I was trying to set up a nice little play-time and you acted like I spit in your coffee.”

“Because I don’t relish the idea of role-playing pedophilia!” Wesley bit his lip. “I didn’t mean—“

“Yeah, you did mean. Christ, Wes. Wasn’t going to make you wear short pants or anything. I was thinking ADULT son and daddy.”

Wesley covered his eyes. “That really doesn’t make it better.”

“C’mon, Wes. It’s just pretend.”

Wesley set the six-pack down and pulled one of the beers out. Spike took it when offered. “I… didn’t have a good relationship with my father.”

“Gee,” Spike said, voice thick with sarcasm. “Hadn’t guessed.”

Wesley popped the top on a beer for himself and took a fortifying sip. “Can’t we just… not do that?”

Spike looked sulkily down at his beer.

“Really?” Wesley asked.

Spike half-shrugged. “It’s Angel’s fault, really. You know, he was the first bloke I ever slept with, and he had this THING about being called ‘Daddy’.”

“Have I ever given you the slightest indication I wanted to know that sort of thing about you and Angel?”

Spike shrugged again. “It’s not like I chose to be wired this way. I just… I want to share that with you.”

“I’m sorry, Spike, but I don’t think I could, well, perform, if we did something like that.”

Spike lowered his eyelashes. “You could be the daddy.”

“Good lord, NO.”

Spike sighed heavily. Then he snapped his fingers. “Dirty old uncle.”

“NO.”

“Grandpa?”

“Listen to yourself!”

“Brothers?”

Wesley paused, the “no” half-formed. He frowned. “I suppose I could live with that. It sounds… rather naughty and exciting, actually.”

Spike wrapped his arms around Wesley’s waist. “Deal.”

“Forgiven?”

Spike kissed him. “Yeah, but I get to be the OLDER brother.”


End file.
